


Kili has a Bad Day

by sammy_winchesty



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Hobbits, Hurt, Hurt Kíli, Lols, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Canon, Pre-The Hobbit, literally just before
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:00:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25954126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammy_winchesty/pseuds/sammy_winchesty
Summary: Set just before the first Hobbit, this story is about Kili being separated from Fili and injured by orcs.This is a story I found from like yonks ago, and my friend told me to put it on here to see how many likes it would get ahaha :)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	Kili has a Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> This will probably be a one-shot as I wrote it like years ago.

Kili should be passing over the border to the shire right now with Fili. They had received word a few short hours ago that Uncle Thorin had been spotted walking south of the path that connects Erid Luin to the Shire. Where Thorin lacked in directions, he certainly made up for in loyalty.

Kili and Fili briefly argued about which of them was to go fetch their uncle, and it was decided that Fili would go meet up with the others in the Shire as “I am the future king, Kili.. and the older one,” while Kili would double back and escort Thorin to the meeting. 

However, if the raven’s message was correct, it turns out that Uncle had managed to get to the Shire another way and had already met with the rest of the company. Which left Kili hours late to seeing his old friends, and meeting Mr Boggins… And surely having missed dinner.

Kili looked around the dense wilderness. It would surely take hours until he reached the Shire and his stomach was already protesting at the idea. He continued walking along the path, hastening his step. 

A twig snapped a few meters to the left of Kili, the sound echoing out from the dark woods. Kili strained his eyes, attempting to make out any figures lurking in the shadows, a quick movement startled his concentration, and a swift rush of air past his head had his adrenaline pumping. An arrow, he had nearly been shot with an arrow. Kili pulled out his bow and drew an arrow, aimlessly firing it into the dark. An ugly snarl sounded, and figures were moving out from the cover of the trees, the starlight shining brightly on mutilated and grotesque faces. Orcs. 

There were no wargs in sight, and Kili could only spot about two dozen of the filthy orcs, which meant that they had most likely been sent as scouts. It was obvious that their stealthy mission didn’t go as planned. The orcs raised their weapons and charged at Kili, Kili sprinted off. 

However reckless he was, he was painfully aware of the fact that he couldn’t take down a whole pack of orcs by himself. Kili ran into the cover of the trees, ducking and weaving shots. He was miles away from the Shire, miles away from help. If he ran, he could probably get there in around an hour, but the odds of him getting that far unscathed were slim. 

Kili tried to slow his breathing and peeked around the boulder he was currently taking refuge behind, he fired an arrow from his bow, and a horrid shriek sounded through the night. He needed to make up his mind now, the pack was closing in, and soon he would have no chance but to face them. He grasped his bow, counting to three and leapt out from the cover, sprinting towards the Shire. 

Another arrow whizzed, uncomfortably close, past his shoulder. He turned around quickly and shot another arrow, hitting the orc that had previously shot at him. He kept sprinting, the sound of crushing leaves and stomping feet trailing him. Arrows kept flying past him, growls of frustration emitting from the pack.

Kili sprinted on, extending his lead, whilst it was well known that dwarves were naturally elite sprinters, long-distance running was less than adequate for his kind. His breathing was growing more laboured, and his muscles burned. He haphazardly stumbled down a hill, grateful for gravity to take some of the burden from his aching limbs. The sound of the orc cries were far behind him now, screaming out to find him. 

Kili couldnt rest yet, he needed to maintain his lead. He kept running, stealthily moving through the forest and being cautious to not step on any piles of leaves that could give away where he was.

Kili ran to the edge of the tree line and saw a familiar path and he could have cried in glee, he was close to the shire he was close to Fili, and Thorin. He slowly stalked towards the track, his hand on his dagger sheath, ready to attack any offending creatures. 

“I got ya now” a guttural voice called out. Kili swivelled around but it was too late, an arrow flew through the air and forcefully stabbed into his stomach. He stared down at it, blood already pooling around the wound, and looked back up at the smiling orc who was reaching for another arrow. The pain hadn’t registered yet and Kili was working on autopilot, he threw his dagger at the orc, causing the vile creature to drop to the ground unceremoniously.

He assessed his surroundings, he could hear orcs in the distance, but there was no sign of any offending creatures close. A searing pain ripped through his body, the events of the last 60 seconds crushing down on him. Kili bit down on his lip to keep from screaming in agony, he just had to get to the company. He slowly started shuffling along the tree line, next to the path, a faint glow glistened in the distance, that must be Hobbiton. He continued stumbling along, leaving a trail of blop behind him. Dusk was coming and Kili’s face had grown pale, his eyes developed a misty look, as tears fell down his cheeks. 

Minutes or possible hours later, Kili was walking over a bridge. Round, coloured doors arranged on the sides of the streets. Kili spotted a green door with the mark on it up the top of the road and let out a sigh of relief. His head was spinning and black spots danced in his vision. 

He flung open the gate and practically fell up the steps and against the door, knocking carelessly against the painted wood. The world was quickly fading around him, a steady trail of crimson liquid flowing freely from his stomach. He slid down the door and onto the cold, fresh ground, and with his last breath of strength, whispered “help” before the world went dark.


End file.
